31.22.908N 141.40.021W

The navigationally gifted among you will immediately recognize that we are about 15 miles from halfway, which we will no doubt pass during my next watch. So the nearest patch of dirt from here is about 1,100 miles away. We've had good wind, sometimes a little too good, spectacular sunrises and sunsets, and a moon so bright you can see colors at night. Then a squall comes and it gets so dark you can't see anything beyond the little cloud of glow around the instruments.

I got really tired from staying on deck too much the past day or so, so am not sure what all I've updated you on. We've seen some flying fish, always a marker of a happy tropical voyage. I think I told you about the dolphins. We changed from a lightweight spinnaker to a heavier one, which we then wrapped around the forestay in a classic hourglass form at 1:30 in the A.M.. Sprang from my bunk to rectify that situation without having to take anything down. I was sort of proud of that one. Same chute was layed flat on the surface of the sea, along with the rest of the mast and rigging, in a 35 knot blast in a squall. This time I was at the helm, so am currently atop the crew leaderboard for best wipeout. Don't worry, the mast wasn't broken, it was still attached to the boat in the conventional manner, the boat was just realigned so that horizontal surfaces became vertical, and vice versa, for maybe 30 seconds or so. No problem in the long run though. VALIS is sturdy and resumed a semi-upright plod toward paradise as soon as I was able to return the rudder to the water.

So, in summary, we're smelling bad, sailing well, having fun, and getting a wierd looking tan due to the deck harness.

Whiskey Delta Bravo 2898 VALIS out